


Harley Quinn's Patients

by Whispers_of_Dusk (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Gotham, Gotham City - Freeform, Harley Quinn Psychiatrist, I'll add more tags as i go, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Drama, Scarecrow and The Joker in the Asylum, Villain Psychology, Villains, i'll add more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Whispers_of_Dusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Batman: The Dark Knight.</p><p>The Joker and Scarecrow. Who are they? What made them so dark and twisted?</p><p>After all they had done, it seemed that only the entirely too trusting psychologist Harleen Francis Quinzel (Harley Quinn) was the only one who cared... and the only one who wondered if they were still good men.</p><p>But could such horrible people still be redeemable? Or was it too late? And more importantly, to what length will Harley go to find out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro: The New Nuts

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Please don't be afraid to comment!
> 
> Also, I've changed the title.

Harleen Frances Quinzel was the second most loathed name in all of Gotham, falling below only The Joker- uh, well, at the moment anyway. It changed depending on the circumstances. The citizens of Gotham where so fickle. Problem was, a lot of people felt she was just picking up where Doctor Crane left off. That being, by testifying in court that a ruthless criminal was legally insane. In this particular case, The Joker himself. All of Gotham wanted him dead, the very least he was going to get was life in prison, but now, thanks to Harleen, he's the new patient in Arkham Asylum. But no one, not even the new judge could argue Harleen's statement; "The Joker is a complete psychopath." Especially when, just after she declared the words, the man in question burst into a fit of uniquely bizarre laughter during the court hearing.

To ease the nerves of the people of Gotham a little, Commissioner Gordon upped security at the asylum by enlisting some of his own men to guard it. Of course, that only upset them more, because now there would be less police out on the streets to protect them from the terrible Batman who betrayed and killed the beloved Two-Face- um, Harvey Dent.

Yeah. Strange times. Stranger city. And the strangest people.

But now, at least, the worst of those strange people were confined. Even if it was in a padded room instead behind iron bars. Or in a wooden box buried six feet below the dirt, such as it is in the mostly unheard of cases of Two-Face and Ra's al Ghul. The fight with the villains who are still alive was over for The Batman and the police force... But not for the psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. No, their jobs had just gotten a lot harder. Because once the new judge finally was appointed, Doctor Jonathan Crane and a man known as nothing other than The Joker were now the new nuts of the asylum.

Arkham Asylum.

... and Harleen couldn't be more excited...

"I want the new guys! Can I have them? Oh, please! Oh, PLEASE! I'm not afraid of Ichabod, and clowns always made me smile when I was just a little totling!"

"Not sure 'totling' is a word." 

The guy at the front desk looked up from his phone and blinked slowly at the energetic therapist... Too energetic... As grandson of the founder of Arkham Asylum, William Arkham, was one of the few with the power to grant her request. He also had just turned twenty, and only saw the asylum as a place to tell his friends creepy, and often made up, stories about. Certainly not a place to take seriously. Or to bother reading that only a certain number of therapist there were qualified to work with The Joker and Scarecrow. And Harleen wasn't on that list.

"Name?" William turned to the computer.

"Harleen Francis Quinzel. That's spelled Q-U-I-N-"

"Yeah, I got it." He interrupted. "Okay, I'll have them moved to your unit, Miss 'Quin'," he added with a wink.  
Harleen tried to wink back, just to give it a try, but couldn't manage to close only one eye.

"Are you okay? Something wrong with your eye?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks. So they're my patients now?"

"Yup."

"Coolio! That was faster then I thought, and a zing! of a lot easier, too. I thought I'ld have to beg some more. I guess this big long speech I wrote is pointless now..."

"You know," William leaned over the desk with a serious expression, speaking in a hushed tone, like the one he used on his friends when telling stories. "It's getting the patient that's the easy part. But getting rid of them?... Now, that's a whole different story. No one wants these guys. You'll have a hard time finding a replacement when you want out."

Harleen stared blankly at William for a second, "So no one will take them but me? No one wants them, at all?"

"'Fraid not, miss. Being they're not just twisted. They're evil, and all. And now they're yours." He used the most bone chilling voice he could muster without making it too obvious he was just trying to scare her. It looked like it was working too, judging by her gaping expression.

"I-I can't believe it..." Then suddenly, a large smile spread across her face. "Oh, I just love my darling boys already!"

"Your... Your 'darling boys'?... Wait! Did I miss something?

"I'll never be unemployed again! Now that's saying a lot for someone who lives in Gotham. Wahoo!" She spun and skipped down the hall singing. 

"I'll listen to them talk a while, doo da, doo da. Guaranteed I'll make them smile, oh the doo da day!"

 

*}\@/{**}\@/{**}\@/{**}\@/{**}\@/{*

 

There they were. Her new patients. Her first patients, actually. She had apprenticed, substituted, lead group sessions, and was given fake patients as part of her training, but now she had two real one hundred percent insane, psychopathic convicts that she had full responsibility for. She could hardly contain her joy!

They sat in white padded rooms in front of her, with glass walls like the interrogation room of a prison. Mirrors on their side, windows on hers. Their rooms were right beside each other, identically furnished with only a bed, and she could observe them both at the same time from her office, where the windows made up the wall across from her. Maybe not normal conditions for an asylum, but this wasn't a normal asylum either. This was Arkham Asylum, home of the most deranged nut-jobs that no other Asylum dare take on.

A shame too. They looked like they were just sweet peaches!

The one who called himself The Joker sat on the floor awkwardly, his long legs spread out. Hands folded in front of him. He was making the pouty clown face as he stared at the floor, occasionally looking up at the window/mirrors like a sad little puppy, last of his litter still without a home. Harleen had to look away.

Jonathan Crane was pacing, rubbing his temples and running his fingers through his hair. This time Harleen thought of goldfish, swimming back and forth, back and forth, fluffing out its gills, knowing it was meant for more then a life behind glass, but forced to remain in it anyway.

Just seeing them, she could already feel the ache in her heart. The same desperate feeling that people get when they visit a sick family member in the hospital. She just wanted them to get better

But, before she could waltz in and officially met them, there was paperwork to read, so she sat down and started with the file labeled; Crane, Jonathan.

She skimmed the information on the paper. It had the names of his parents Karen Keeny, and Gerald Crane (deceased). The name of his legal guardian as a child, Mary Keeny (deceased). His birthdate. He'd be 24 next November. (Hm, younger then she expected.) Then the schools he attended, and the jobs he'd had. Patients he had. Cases he was involved in. Mentions of his first arrest. His drug sales. And finally ending with his last arrest when The Batman caught him in a meeting with an unsatisfied customer. Yes, allot certainly young for someone with his track record. She closed his file, and opened up The Joker's.

Nothing but the details surrounding his terrorizing of Gotham just before his arrest by Batman. Nothing else. No real name, no birthdate, no parents. It was all unknown

Interesting... Very interesting. She looked up to see the mysterious man, who now stood before the window, glaring into it as if he could see her beyond his own mutilated reflection. He looked menacing, with his curious scares locked in a perpetual smile. He was clearly trying to intimidate whoever was on the other side, but Harleen only grinned. She thought it was so cute to see him trying to look all mean and scary.

She turned her attention to Crane who was no longer pacing, instead he was on his knees in the middle of his room, batting away at the air around his head. He was laughing nervously with tears pouring down his eyes at the same time, as if knowing the demons he fought weren't real, but still afraid of them regardless. Pity and concern pricked at her heart. For both the criminals before her.

Yes, these were her boys now.  
All of Gotham hated them, and who could blame them after what they did? But Harleen already loved them, and she hadn't even met them yet.


	2. Meeting The Joker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tricky. It's The Joker for mercys sake!
> 
> Not to mention this is Harley Quinn. She may not be on the same level as The Joker, but neither of them are normal...
> 
> But, anyway I managed it and I don't think it's too bad.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Harleen let The Joker out of his room and into her office first. Because he required more immediate attention, she'd swear to the court. In reality... she was just dying to know more about this fascinating man with the neat face paint!

She gestured for The Joker to take a seat in the most comfortable chair she could find. He took it and stretched out sideways, throwing his legs over the arm. He leaned his head back and smiled at the ceiling. If only it were a genuine smile, but she knew it wasn't. It was a smile birthed of twisted humor from a twisted mind.

"Hi, I'm Harleen Quinzel. Your new therapists. Or am I your only therapist? We don't know so much about ya."

"Don't you?"

"Uh, no. Could we start with a name, maybe?"

"Names..." He twisted his lips after he said it, eyes wandering the room. 

"Why does it mater so much to people? Everyone acts like it's such an important part to a person, but nobody gets to pick their name, they might not even like it, so really, if you think about it, it doesn't mean a thing. " He looked at Harleen.

"Well, we got the other guys name and we know a lot about him because of it. Like, ya know, where he lived and stuff."

"And so this makes you an expert on him now? Do you suddenly know what makes him tick?" He did something that looked like the jazz hands to Harleen when he said "tick".

Harleen bit her lip. "Well..."

"Yeah, yeah. That's what I thought. The Joker is the name I picked. It fits me better then any name anyone could have given me, so that's the one I'm going with." The Joker twisted abruptly in his chair to a regular sitting position and leaned forward. "You told me your name, but I know more about the Batman then you, and no one knows his name."

"Huh. I guess you got a point there."

"So! Let's say you were about to die...," he licked his lips and glanced at Harleen to witness her reaction. She merely listened intensely, intrigued by his topic of choice. "Just imagine with me for a second that someone stabbed you... You're bleeding to death. No one can get to you in time to save you... What would you do in your final moments?"

Sure, maybe she should have been the one asking him the questions, but perhaps building a -professional!- relationship with him was the key to unlocking him. He could have a point to this odd question. It may help her understand him better. Plus, it was a good question. Not to far off from things Harleen thought about as it was.

"Cry. Pray. Cray and pray."

"No really, think about it. You said that because that's what first came to mind. That's what you think you'd think. It's in all the movies, books, whatever. But really, think. What would *you* do? Knowing yourself, what would you likely do knowing you wouldn't wake up the next day?"

Yeah, that was a little cliche. She was individual. There was a time she thought she was about to die. What she was thinking at that moment was, well... "I'ld be pretty bummed I'ld miss the next episode of Luny Toons, first. Second, wish I had gotten to drive a Lamborghini. Then... I'ld probably make sure I looked cute lying dead on the floor when the police found my body. Ya know, maybe a little dramatic or something." Body's were typically sprawled out awkwardly as they struggled, panicked, or were simply caught off guard, but if she had a moment to set the stage, she'd go down in style.

"No thoughts of family, friends, pets maybe?"

Harleen's face dropped. She hadn't thought of any of those things when she thought she was gunna die.

The Joker smiled again. A big, wide smile. "Yes, isn't it just confusing? Being honest with ourselves, that is. Coming to turns with how truly selfish, vain, and dark, and even evil we really are. It gives you all these conflicting emotions. Makes you question yourself. People lie to themselves more then anyone, if you can believe it. Not me, though. Not anymore. I may be a joker but I won't fool anyone, least of all myself. I'm crazy, but Gotham - the world!- they're all insane."

"How so?"

"They tell themselves lies everyday, then they believe it. They get lied to, and they accept it. It's normal, it's acceptable, it's desired! It's considered sane. What makes it really interesting, without their little lies they cling to, when some 'clown' comes along and tries to show them the truth, THEY ALL GO MAD! Hahahaha! Hehehehaha!"

"Um..." Harleen couldn't come up with a response. Maybe she should just keep him talking. "Lies everybody tells? What lies are you talking about?"

"Lies people tell others?"

His voice changed in tones and pitch as he made little voices for each lie.

"'I'm sorry."

'I didn't mean it.'

'You're safe.'

'I'm only doing this for your own good!'

'I love you!'

'I'll keep you in my prayers.'

HA! Liars!

"Lies people tell themselves?..."  
His voice calmed and quieted as his demeanor intensified.

"'I'm not afraid.'

'I'm don't lie.'

'I've never stolen.'

'I'm put others first.'

'I LOVE kids.'

'I wouldn't hurt a fly.'

'I'm a good person.' 

"Yes, that's the big one. So many lies. And yet almost everybody believes them... Well, except the 'crazy' people. Truth is, if I wasn't 'crazy' I'ld just go insane like the rest of the world. Believing lies and screaming my head off when one of them gets exposed. It's just what they do. The reason? People are scared of the truth. They can't handle it."

What Harleen hated most about this conversation was everything he said was true. She had no argument, nothing she could reason with him. He was right, and thinking that felt so wrong.

"Well, I um... I'm just going to... I think I'll... We're done for today."

Harleen rose from her chair and led The Joker back to his room. Before she closed the door, he turned to her and smiled.

"Thanks for playing my little game. Very, very rare to find someone who likes my sort of games. Your answer told me more about you then your name ever would." Harleen was quiet. "Have a lot to think about, do we, Harley?"

"Harleen," she corrected, then closed the door. And yes, she defiantly did.

Although she had no response to the things he said, she learned a lot about the way he thought, which in the long run would help her cure him.

He really was quite fascinating...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... Scarecrow!


	3. Meeting Jonathan Crane

He started talking before she could even say 'hello', and what he said was not exactly what she had expected.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Jonathan Crane. We're very happy to have you with us, but wholeheartedly look forward to the day you leave this asylum. We are fully dedicated to your recovery. We won't judge, criticize, or belittle you in any way. If there's anything we can do to make you're stay more comfortable, please let us know. You're in good hands. Remember, we're all friends at Arkham, so respect each other and have fun. Standard community rules apply."

Harleen glanced down at her clipboard. He quoted the exact words from the Arkham Asylum standard greeting that psychiatrist were supposed to give the patients. Forgot to mention it to Joker... Oops.

"Wow, you have that memorized better than I do."

"I've been the primary therapist to over 27 inmates at this asylum. And the secondary to 43. If I still needed a clipboard to remember that line, I think I'ld be in need more then a psychiatrist. In fact, if that were the case, just shoot me."

"So... you are aware you have psychiatric issues and all?"

Crane squinted at her and tilted his head as if she were the crazy one. "Did-did you not just hear what I told you? I'm was a therapist, a professor... *Doctor* Crane, remember? I know all the symptoms, causes, and treatments of every mental disease known to mankind... and then some. I used to run this entire building. I was well aware of my lack of mental sanity long before I was even given a degree in psychology. So to answer your question, yes, I am aware I have psychiatric 'issues'."

After a brief silence, Harleen awkwardly cleared her throat. "Why didn't you get a therapist a long time ago then?"

"Because, there is nothing a therapist can do. Believe me, I know."

Terrific... A doctor way smarter then her was convinced he was incurable, and who was she to argue? She was a rookie at this sort of thing. But he was the crazy one, right? So, as smart as he was, maybe his mental condition was somehow stopping him from seeing the cure. It was possible depression could have caused him to give up all hope. And, though Jonathan may have given up, Harleen wasn't about to quit just yet.

"'We are fully dedicated to your recovery.'"

"Uh, come again?"

"I said, 'We are fully dedicated to your recovery.' It's one of the sentences in that greeting I never bothered to pay any attention to. But that doesn't change the fact that it is true."

"That 'greeting' was created by a man who knew very little about psychology nearly eighty years ago. He, not once, treated a patient at this asylum or any from what I've discovered."

"Huh? Then why'd he build the place?!"

"Some sort of investment, or publicity stunt, maybe. Who knows, could've been anything. All I know is it means nothing."

"Well... Well it means something to me!" Harleen declared, startling Jonathan with her abrupt movements. "I will not rest until you can walk down the streets of Gotham like every other Joe, Frank, and Jerry!"

"That will never happen."

"I believe it can. I believe in you! It's never impossible for things to get better."

"That's a childish fantasy based on the belief that dreams can actually come true. An ideal children develop at a young age due to fairy tales, naivety, and a fear of hopelessness."

Harleen could hardly contain her annoyance at his negativity. "What a Jonny-rain-cloud you're being!" Professional? No, not exactly. Thank goodness none of her superiors heard her shout like that.

"You displayed a greet deal of aggression over a simple statement." Crane's eyebrows raised, his eyes glinted, as he made little connections in his head about Harleen. "You really do need to cling to your 'ideals' don't you. Maybe even ideals you've doubted yourself at some point. Probably even still question yourself."

"I don't doubt my ideals! Or myself, or anything. I just believe that there's always hope. I believe that everyone has a reason for doing the things they do, no matter how bad they seem. People don't want to be evil. All they need is a little help to get them back on the right track."

Suddenly Crane seemed very intrigued, and leaned back in his chair and studied Harleen a moment, while she did the same to him.

Being more experienced, he came up with results faster.

"Were you raised by your mother or your father?"

Harleen's face flushed. "Why wouldn't you think I was raised by both?"

"Please, Miss Quinzel. I've been doing this for a long time now. I can easily see the effects of an absent parent by observing the way you act."

"Oh. Um, my mom raised me. Dad had other... priorities."

"Mm, I can imagine. What kind of crimes did he occupy himself with?"

"How did you- uh, right. I'm really that easy to read, huh? He was a con-man."

"'Was'?"

"Some girl didn't like having her heart messed with for cash." She shrugged.

"Yes, that is the hazard of his choice of occupation. Despite his absence, I can see you miss him. Not uncommon. So, it was your mother then? I'm very sorry."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"She abused you, didn't she? Verbally and physically. Did she hurt your younger sibling, too? Is that why you got into psychology in the first place, to understand them better? To know why your dad cared more about his crimes then his family, and to understand how your mom could abuse her own children?" He didn't say it cruelly, or in a way that would hurt her feelings. His words were spoken gently, his face filled with compassion, yet he was also very strait forward, and confident in his assumptions. A balance he acquired through years of practice.

That didn't change the fact that Harleen was dumbstruck. How did he know? She had heard about people who could read body language like a preschooler book, but she never realized just how much detail a person who understood the language could get. Right down to her having a younger sibling!?

Crane was no stranger to this kind of reaction and waited patiently for her to recover from the surprise. He even looked away from her and casually around the room to make her feel less exposed.

Wow! I could learn a lot from this guy! Harleen thought. Er... Well, if he wasn't crazy of course. He was mental after all. Even he knew it was true, which reminded her, wasn't this *his* session? How'd he manage to flip it around without her noticing?

Maybe she shouldn't have visited both patients in the same day. She still felt dizzy from her session with The Joker. And now, Doctor Crane was throwing her for yet another loop. These were both brilliant people. Now she could see why the others wouldn't let her have them as patients. She just didn't have the experience for this sort of thing. Maybe she shouldn't have conspired to go to William Arkham to get these guys...

No. She was glad she did. Nobody else would have given them a chance. No one would have cared as much as she did. No one else would understand. It would be hard, but she would not give up on her boys. She was going to save them... Just maybe not today. She needed a break, air, time, ice cream... SOMETHING!

"That's all for today, Jonny-rain-cloud." She said rising from her chair and gesturing towards the door.

Jonathan stood up, straightened his shirt, then paused a moment. He locked his pale blue eyes on her and Harley felt like he was looking right through her.

"You studied psychology, you have a degree, you work at this asylum. Why do I get the impression there's something that's just not right here?"

Harley held his gaze as best she could.

"We're done here, Mr. Crane."

A slight grin appeared on his face.

"Yes, I suppose we are."

He turned in the direction she still gestured in and walked out of the office. She walked behind him and locked him in his room.

Both her patients outsmarted her today. Two patients she really wasn't supposed to have.

Pamela would get a laugh out of this.


	4. Pamela and Selene

"Hey, Harl. Someone called about five minutes ago. Doctor Leland from Arkham." Pamela said as Harleen walked in the front door. Pamela was in the kitchen watering the many plants she had scattered about.

"Oh, yeah? What did she want?" Harleen placed her gym bag on the counter next to the fern.

"She wanted to know if you forgot to turn in the psychiatric evaluations for your new patients you weren't supposed to have. She also said she'd loved to know who gave you authorization to be in the same room as them."

Harleen winced, "Right, evaluations. Uh... What did you tell her?"

"I asked her who have her authorization to call my number after business hours. People are so annoying."

Harleen giggled. "Ever the sociopath."

"So, you went through with your plan then?"

"Yeah. It wasn't really much of plan, though. Just begged the only guy with power but no brains and BAM! I got what I wanted."

"You don't look so happy for someone who got what she wanted."

Harleen climbed into the barstool at the counter and fiddled with the leaves on the fern. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm just havin' doubts. Ya know? I thought I could help them, but I don't know if I'm capable anymore. The Joker confuses me, and Doctor Crane is just too smart. Maybe Doctor Leland is right. Maybe I'm just not qualified."

"Wow. Just this morning you were skipping around the living room, saying, 'The villains of Gotham need a hero who will be the light in the dark of Arkham. And I will be that light!'. What happened to saving the city by 'saving those who terrorize it'?"

"I don't know, Red. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I can't save them."

"Maybe you can't," Pamela shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the counter as Harleen to water the fern. "They're men, after all. And men are careless, selfish, and heartless. They can't be reasoned with. They can't be saved."

"I don't know if they're *that* bad."

Pamela stared at Harleen in amazement. "Are you forgetting that they murdered people, terrorized Gotham, and The Joker ran over a flower bed! If that's not evil I seriously don't know what is."

Harleen was suddenly distracted by something sitting on the kitchen window. "Red, isn't that the Venus fly trap plant from the Scientific University of Gotham?"

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"You stole it!" Harleen's eyes widened as she jumped up from her chair.

"Hey, don't shout so loud! Plants don't like shouting it slows their growth."

"But why'd you put it in the window?!" Harleen was nearly frantic now.

"It needed fresh air to help recover from all the cruel experiments those so called 'botanists' were running on it."

"But it's glowing in the dark. In our WINDOW!"

"It's not the plants fault! It was the scientists who genetically altered it."

"Doesn't matter now does it? Someone's must have seen it by now and reported it. The cops will be here any minute and they'll take the plant back! And we'll all go to jail! Didn't you think of that?"

"Of course. I was banking on it. And when they get here I'm going to-"

She was interrupted when the door burst open.

"We're busted!" Harleen yelled diving behind the counter.

"Relax, Harl. It's Selene."

Selene Kyle ran into the room, opened the refrigerator and emptied a small bag out into the ice dispenser. "Alright, girls, if you need extra diamonds just remember to press whole cubes instead of crushed- Harley, what are you doing on the floor?"

"Hiding from the coppers who are coming to arrest Red for stealing that plant."

"I don't think you'll have a problem with that. They're too busy investigated a robbery down at the jewelry store. Some cat burglar took some pretty big diamonds." Selene walked over to the kitchen window and closed the blinds and curtains. "There, now they'll never know to look here."

"Hey!" Pamela ran over to the window and put her hands on her hips. "I was using that to draw the attention of the cops to finish my plan."

"Yeah, some plan."

"You haven't even heard it yet!"

"If the cops come here than they'll search the place and we'll both be busted."

"Gee, ya should have thought of that before you made a career out of stealing."

"You're one to talk! You stole a plant! I do what I have to in order to survive! For the three of us to survive."

"And I don't like seeing helpless plants being used and abused for experimentation!"

"That's it!" Harleen jumped up in the middle of the argument. Her friends both looked at her confused.

"What?"

"I understand now. Mr. J was right, names don't mater. And Jonny-rain-cloud was right too. We do cling to ideals we develop as children. If I'm going to learn anything from them, I should focus on their life when they were kids, get them to talk about that. Thanks for all your help! I new there was still hope in savin' them! You're the best friends a girl could ask for!"

She pulled Selene and Pamela into a tight group hug.

"Anytime." Pamela shrugged. It didn't mater that she didn't understand what Harleen was talking about. It was Harleen! And she never understood a word she said half the time anyway, but she was her best friend and that's all that mattered. Then there was Selene-

"Alright, I guess I don't need to lure the cops here, control their minds with my new lipstick, and force them to overtake that horrible University. I'll just keep the plant in secret so you won't get put away."

"That's very noble of you," Selene said genuinely. Then she cracked a smile and the two girls laughed together.

"Aw! I just love it when my friends are getting along. It makes me have hope." Harleen said as she scribbled away on a notepad. "Hope for you guys. Hope for Gotham. Hope for the world. And hope for my boys! I'm going to give them that evaluation. Then I'm going to really learn about them. Why they are who they are."

"That's a great plan, Sunshine, but weren't you supposed to be doing that with your patients before?" Selene asked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say. I'm new to this and these guys have a way of changing the topic without you even noticing. I'm trying to get them to talk about themselves, and somehow I get them talking about me."

"That is odd," Selene said. "Usually it's the other way."

"These are unusual guys. Maybe if I tried a different approach... Hey! Pages are missing from Crane's file! Pages 1,2,3,4,8?"

"Fell out maybe?" Pamela suggested.

"I'll have to ask Doctor Leland tomorrow."

"If she lets you keep them." Selene said. "If I remember what you told me yesterday right, you snatched those patients without permission."

"She'll let me keep them. She'll have no choice. William Arkham was right. No one else will take them."


	5. The Joker's Stories

The following day, Harleen asked Leland about the misses pages in Crane's file, but the other doctor had little to say on the matter besides;

"These things happen. What I'm more concerned about is who gave you permission to work with those two. You should have never been allowed."

"These things happen," Harleen replied not wanting to rat out William. What if she needed him again?

Leland didn't press the issue any further, and Harleen wasn't surprised. No one wanted stop her.

The following two months were the slowest, and not exactly what the young psychiatrists was anticipating.

The Joker never, not once took a session seriously, no matter how hard Harleen tried. Never the less, she completely enjoyed every minute she spent with him.

He was always making her laugh, with jokes, magic tricks, and stories he made up to amuse her. He never said anything mean, or made fun of her. He was always complimenting her eyes, her hair, and often asked her to show him the tricks she had learned in gymnastics, rewarding her with praise and applause each time, even when she made a mistake. She fell once during a balance trick on a chair, and The Joker came over to help her up.

"Oh, thanks, Mr. J," Harleen said a little embarrassed.

"Life's a joke, Harley," The Joker said as she rose to her feet. "No point in taking it seriously. You need to laugh at yourself when you make a mistake."

Harleen's heart fluttered in her chest as he smiled down at her still holding her hand.

It didn't take long for Harleen Francis Quinzel to adjust to her new nickname: Harley Quinn after the harlequin clowns. Despite her loathing it during her childhood, she couldn't help but feel differently about it when The Joker said it. If he didn't mind being associated with clowns, why should she? She in turn started calling him Mr. J, and he didn't complain.

She also learned a few things about him in those two months. They were vague comments, and said with a great deal of emotional detachment before he quickly changed the subjected, but Harley knew these were more then just stories. They were real. And they nearly broke her heart.

He had a wife, once. His only description was of her "beautiful heart." And she was pregnant with their first child, and was always making him laugh with the funny things pregnant women do. He cut the tale short, though. Saying the baby was never born because she died. Killed by the very people meant to keep the innocent safe... A police officer.

The other story Harley knew to be real was of his father, a man he counted on for love, affection, and nurturing. Instead he beat him. Treated him as a punching bag, a stress relieving for when he was having a bad day. All Mr. J wanted was to his dad to be happy with him, but his dad, as he put it "never got the joke." Harley's struggled with her emotions when she heard this, knowing what it felt like.

On a day when he was in a particularly dark mood, he said, "My father was a joke, the police are a joke, my life is a joke. This whole world, none of it is what it seems to be. Everyone is a lie. Everyone is a joke. But I'm not anymore." Then he laughed. "I'm the one dressed up like a clown, but really, they're the real kidders. The *criminals* are the only real people out there. They're the only ones who are being who they really are."

"Oh, then you don't have to worry about me and my friends, Mr. J. The three of us aren't exactly model citizens." That made The Joker smile, and Harleen blushed and turned away when he looked at her. She knew she was in love with him, she knew it was crazy, but she couldn't help herself.

She found herself going to him for advice and even just visiting him for the sake of it, spending more time with him in the asylum then anywhere else. Yes, he was crazy, but it was a crazy she could understand to the point where she felt each of his criminal acts were justified. An unhealthy reaction due to an excessive amount of sympathy, and time spent with The Joker, was Crane's diagnostic.

Yes, Jonathan Crane was more Harley's therapist now then she was his. Now being called Jonny by Harley, Dr. Crane was bored out of his mind being trapped in the asylum and instead spent his time studying Harley and The Joker's relationship. He described it as strange and unhealthy for them both. But what was he supposed to do about it? He tried to tell the other doctors at the asylum, but no one would listen to "crazy Dr. Crane." Even if he wasn't crazy, though, it wouldn't have mattered. Arkham was as unprofessional and corrupt as the rest of Gotham. Jonny knew that as well as anyone. They didn't care if The Joker wasn't getting proper therapy. And they didn't care if Harley was going a bit loony herself. She was always a little off and as long as it was her and not any of them, what did it matter?But Jonny genuinely wanted to help Harley.

So, during his sessions, he would would council Harley instead of the other way around... As best he could anyway. She never listened when he dare mention that her love for The Joker was changing her, and not entirely for the better.

One day in particular, Crane thought it would be best for Harley to take a vacation and spend some time with people who weren't mental. But she couldn't bare the thought of spending a single day away from her "Puddin'".

Jonny took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Why won't you just take one day off? Just one? I think it would do you some good."

Harley perked up suddenly, the tell tale sign she just got what she thought was a terrific idea. "I know, I'll take some time off if you answer some questions for me, for once. How about that?"

Jonny tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair for a moment, before finally saying, "Alright... What do you want to know?"


End file.
